Wordsworth wrote an endless poem in blank verse on” the growth of a poet’s mind.” I shall attempt a more modest feat for a more distracted age: a blog, “Things which a Lifetime of Trying to Be a Poet has Taught Me.”
There is something fascinating about boundaries—between civilization and wilderness, between earth and sky, between man and nature. To live too far from any of them is to lose one’s grip on the wholeness of reality. To ignore them is to lose one’s grip on sanity. To have them presented to you in a new way is to be given the possibility of insight.
THE ROCKIES AT NIGHT
From Fort Collins
Curtal Sonnet # 5
The sky was dark, the mountain darker still;
Electric lights climbed halfway up the side,
Then nothingness, and then a jagged line
Where stars began. It was enough to chill
The bones, to make you want to run and hide,
That yawning gap where stars light refused to shine.
Stubborn memories fetched back from day,
Clung to for the permanence implied
Of solid rock and Ponderosa Pine,
Kept up from the abyss—yet still I say,
It was a sign.
Remember: for more poetry like this, go to https://lanternhollow.wordpress.com/store/ and order Stars Through the Clouds! Also look for Inklings of Reality and Reflections from Plato’s Cave, Williams’ newest books from Lantern Hollow Press: Evangelical essays in pursuit of Truth, Goodness, and Beauty. And look for Williams’ very latest book, Deeper Magic: The Theology behind the Writings of C. S. Lewis, due out Sept. 1, 2016, from Square Halo Books!
Donald T. Williams, PhD